Timothèe Chalamet Imagines

❈you can do this❈

Your POV

I wake slowly, disoriented. 

Something's not... right. 

I sink my hand under the covers and realize I'm surrounded in... is that water? Oh god. Did I wet the bed? That's a new level of embarrassing. I've officially reached the lowest point in my pregnancy. 

But... no. Something feels off. 

I jolt up, flipping the covers off of me. 

My water broke. 

For a moment, I just sit there, my hands covered in the fluid. Next to me Timmy rolls over, woken up by the quick absence of blankets. 

"Is everything okay?" He mumbles, not moving or opening his eyes. 

I'm too petrified to answer. 

"Y/n?" he asks. When I still don't answer, he opens his eyes. When he sees me sitting upright, he instantly wakes up more and props himself up on one arm. "What's wrong?" he asks. He reaches to his nightstand and flicks the lamp on. 

He glances first at my panicked face, and then down to our bedsheets - which are soaked. 

At first he looks confused - then a flash of recognition - then excitement. 

"Oh... Oh my gosh okay we have to get out the hospital bag - it's in the closet, it's right here - you need new clothes - I'll start the car - wait first I'll help you up - wait no -" he frantically spins around the room, grabbing random things and setting them back down. 

His panic is making my panic worse. 

"Y/n, come on - we have to go! We have to..." he finally looks over at me and he freezes. "What?" he asks, panic thick in his voice. He drops half-packed hospital bag he's holding and quickly strides over to me. "Is everything alright?" he asks, his voice shaking and his eyes wide. 

"I... no... I mean, it's fine - everything's normal... I can't..." my voice fades away. 

His face falls with relief when I tell him that nothing feels wrong. 

"You can't... what?" he asks. He's squatting down next to the bed so that our faces are level. 

"I can't do this... I can't do this... how am I supposed to get her out? How am I... I can't - I can't do this!" My breathing picks up and suddenly I feel entirely out of control. The room is spinning. 

"Y/n. Here." I hear his voice through my panic attack. He's holding my hand and pressing it against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat. "Just take deep breaths with me, okay?" He asks. I nod, trying to pull it together. 

I do my best to zone back into the present moment. To not think about my body ripping, or breaking, or anything else that birthing class told me might happen. I just feel his breaths and try to match them. 

I can't help the tears, even when I've calmed down. 

"Look at me," he says. 

I stare right into his green eyes. The rest of the world seems to melt away. 

"If anyone can do this, it's you. Okay? You can do this. You're ready for this," he tells me solidly. I sniffle and nod, trying to agree with him. Trying to believe him. 

"I j-just... remember those classes and what all those books said? And... and the crib isn't here yet! This is early... this is early!" I start sobbing again. 

"She's only one week early. That's okay. That's not dangerous. Just keep breathing." He wraps both of my hands in his own, squeezing my fingers tightly. "And just think. We're about to be parents. She's finally going to be here!" he tells me, keeping his voice calm and hopeful. I nod pathetically. I continue to sit there, trying to breathe. 

He glances over at the alarm clock that sits on my bedside table. 

"I don't wanna rush you, but we should probably go," he tells me. I nod, trying to pull myself completely together as I slide off the edge of the bed. 

Thank god she's coming now, because even standing is hard work. Timmy has to hold my hand to help me get upright. 

"You go change into dry clothes and I'll pack the hospital bag," he says. 

"Don't forget the pillow thing -"

"Y/n, I've got it all. Don't worry. Just change, and breathe," he tells me steadily. 

I can't help but smile at this. He's so kind.

I manage to find a set of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that matches, and I change into the dry clothes in our bathroom. I splash some cool water on my face and tug a brush through my hair before tying it back in a low bun. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. 

I look panicked. But I also look excited. A rush of reassurance hits when I stare at my own reflection. I can do this. 

The door creaks open behind me, and I smile in the mirror at Timmy. He's changed too - no longer in pajamas, but in sweats, sneakers, and a bright orange sweatshirt. 

He smiles softly at me, and walks up behind me, wrapping his arms around my swollen belly. He sinks his head down to my ear, so that his chin rests on my shoulder. 

"You can do this," he whispers. He hugs my belly ever so gently, and kisses the side of my neck. 

I nod and take a final deep breath. 

"Let's go," I say assuredly. 

YOU GUYS. it feels like this just multiplies before my eyes! it's so cool to open this and see so many new readers! yes - I do read every single comment - even if I don't respond to all, and it's just so sweet to see all of this support and love! 

college is wild. I'm insanely busy, (hence the sporadic update schedule - forgive me), and it's just absolutely crazy. I don't want to vent too much about it, but there definitely are ups and downs :) I know this one was shorter, but hopefully you like it! 

thanks to everyone who messages with requests! I often don't write ones that are super specific, only because they come less naturally to me, but I do take ideas and I have a whole list of every single request you send! also sorry this one is shorter. like I said, things have been hectic and I don't have a lot of writing time! 

and if you're struggling with anything, this is your sign to KEEP GOING. I AM LIVING PROOF THAT LIFE GETS BETTER, EVEN WHEN YOU THINK IT WON'T. KEEP. GOING. you are all amazing, and I love you all so so so so much! <3